


mångata

by solitariusvirtus



Series: AU! Concepts [18]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe, Announcements, Concept, F/M, isn't meant to be a complete story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 04:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21452008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solitariusvirtus/pseuds/solitariusvirtus
Summary: She wondered but briefly whom he took her for; it was easy enough to mistake a noblewoman for the daughter of a trader. Many a father had adopted such a manner of protecting their get as the Essosi took trade a lot more serious than they did old names and ancient bloodlines.AU! idea plus announcement
Relationships: Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen
Series: AU! Concepts [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/888528
Comments: 24
Kudos: 17





	mångata

Skirts hiked, exposing a good deal of leg, she ran through the trees, down the steep hillock, ankles in a dangerous dance of daring and danger. There was no helping it, however. She pressed on. Her chest hurt with strain and fatigue and yet she could not slow down, would not slow down. She had but one chance and she would do her very best. Behind her leaves and twigs broke under the heavy footfalls of her pursuer. A shiver ran down Lyanna’s spine; she dared not turn to look. Instead she grunted, tugging on her skirts once more as though that might give her strength. The hill melted into smooth planes. 

It didn’t. Her foot caught in a protruding root and she stumbled with a cry and might have fallen too had she not caught herself just in time. Panic sent her scurrying forth on trembling legs. Behind her the man called. She would have done better to listen to Brandon and stay within the keep’s walls, buy nay, she’d had to sneak her way without.

Her escape was cut short when a pair of strong arms caught her. One crossed the length of her chest while the other anchored her to the hunter, pinning her waist. He lifted her with ease, not minding the kicking of her legs. “Let me go! Let go this instant!” she cried out, trying to scratch at his limbs. Covered in boiled leather his arms withstood the assault, her futile attempts garnered about as much interest from him as they ought to have.

He spoke to her, hold tightening. His warm breath washed over one side of her face. The words made little sense, though she knew that if she only calmed down to listen, she might understand the gist of it. That would not do; her hand shot backwards towards his face, but never quite managed any harm, for before long she was lying in the tall grass, on her back, looking up into dark eyes. He knelt by her, keeping her down with the press of his hands. In the absence of aught other than disdain she spat a curse at him, struggling to get free.

A soft noise had her looking up at the sky. A great shadow loomed above. She shuddered as she felt firm hands tugging on her girdle. He asked her something. She responded with a glare. She’d acted foolishly. His touched turned soothing. There was no helping it; he had the advantage of her. Again he spoke, voice brushing over her like a warm caress; she thought she understood in it a plea for her name. “You will not have it of me.”

These dragonriders thought they could do as they pleased, dotting the landscape with bastard after bastard. She glared at his beast as well. Nay; that thing would surely bathe her in flames if she dared harm its master. Turning her head to the side, she closed her eyes. “Go on then; let it be over.” Strong fingers gripped her chin, forcing her face away from its position. He spoke once more, a promise, she perceived, of finery and such other nonsense. Unwilling to listen, she did her best to drone his voice out. If she did not respond, he would have to give up eventually and just be about his business.

Alas, she then heard mention of her father. A gasp burst its way past her lips. “You brute; how dare you speak of my father?” she cried out, fists pounding into his arm. That he seemed not to take well, for before she could be too long about it, her arms were pinned down and he frowned down at her. To her surprise, he drew up one of his hands, allowing her a glimpse of his finger. The wolf’s head on the ring resting upon his fourth finger confirmed her father’s involvement, just not in the manner she’d been imagining.

Lyanna let her head fall back with a defeated sigh. She relaxed beneath her captor and trained her gaze upon the circling dragon above them. The beast glided with ease in spite of its massive frame. A foreign touch teased her sense of comfort. Soft cloth dragged against her skin to be replaced with thin tips of grass blades. They tickled her. It was not as though she were some special case, after all. Valyrian lords invariably took fancy to daughters of petty lords from the savage lands. The kinder ones rewarded the gift with protection. Some even took the women back to their home. Lyanna even knew of one or two women that had become more than mere pillow girls.

She wished someone would have told her though. And undoubtedly someone would have, had she not bolted off on her own. The hand on her thigh had not moved. She finally focused her gaze on his face. He watched her back. It seemed to her then that he’d been waiting, his thumb drawing circles into her skin. Would he be kind? She reached out, her fingers grazing his arm. In spite of her rather vulnerable position, he had yet to truly harm her, except for the scare he gave her. He tugged her up, allowing her to sit. Before she could gather herself, however, he was speaking again, voice low and soothing, as he drew a thin gold ring from his finger. She frowned to see him pull out a knife. Between cold steel and dragonfire she would much rather embrace steel. But the sharp edge merely cut into her girdle, stealing the thin rope away. He tied the ring around her wrist thereafter with the makeshift chain, throwing the remnant of his work away. She’d not had to embrace either life-stealing options to her great relief.

He then asked for her name. She understood it clearly enough once blood was not pounding in her ears. She considered lying. But what was the use? The truth would out. “Lyanna.” She pointed to herself and repeated once more, not overly surprised to hear him reproduce the sounds with great accuracy, if with a slight accent, which was to be expected. She wondered but briefly whom he took her for; it was easy enough to mistake a noblewoman for the daughter of a trader. Many a father had adopted such a manner of protecting their get as the Essosi took trade a lot more serious than they did old names and ancient bloodlines. The daughters of traders, at least, had the benefit of being asked before they were swept away. She sighed inwardly.

Lyanna did not as for his own name. It did not matter, she decided quite sharply as he stood and pulled her up as well. The golden ring tied around her wrist touched the inside of her palm, the mere brush searing. 

* * *

_Hi everyone,_

_Short annoucement: this is literally the last thing I'm posting on AO3. Some of you will undoubtedly be glad to hear that I've decided to no longer use this platform or the other FF.net account I have. Skipping over the blah blah, what does this mean for those of you following ongoing projects?_

_Simple-I am currently archiving every story (the complete ones have mostly been transferred already) to a GoogleDrive , which those who wish it will be granted access to._

_For those of you on my Discord server, that is closing down too, but you can contact me for the access link to the drive (you'll find my contact info in the Profile section)._

_Ok, that was my short announcement. Thank you for taking the time to read and for sticking with me so far and all the best in the future._

_Regards,_

_S_

(The message will appear on multiple works, so if you see updates, that's why) 


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